Running Forever
by gemstarrox
Summary: Cleo Flowrider is on the run from the government after learning a secret which could change the course of history forever. Or will it change her first?
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

Once upon a time…

Stuff this stupid story stuff. Why do I have to write a story to pass English? Everyone else is doing a book report. It is much easier to read a book and write a report about it. They're treating me specially because I came from a highly prestigious school and they think that I'm 'so smart'. Well I have news for you, _People of the Board_. I'm not smart. I only got into that 'Highly Prestigious School' because my parents payed a lot of money for a new dorm and classroom wing, so that more people could come in and the school profit even more. Seriously. TAKE A LOOK AT MY REPORT CARDS, _PEOPLE OF THE BOARD_! I failed every subject but business studies, and that was only because I LIKED that subject. OK, I will admit that I am smart, but not smart enough to attend that school. Have you even thought of WHY I might have transferred to this school in the first place? No. The reason I did was because they expelled me. For not being smart enough for them. Way to cheat your way into a new school wing, Advanced Preparatory Education School for Girls. More like A.P.E.S. for Girls. That is so racist, seeing as apes are our closest relatives in the animal kingdom. Oh, well. Who gives a damn anyway? Well, I guess I have to write this stupid story anyway, whether I like it or not. Here goes…

Fingers crossed.


	2. Chapter 1

BANG!

Phew, I only just dodged that one. I have got to get a life, so that I don't have to do this anymore. No more running away. I emerged from the forest into a clearing. No, wait. It was a field. An empty field that was probably used for farming a few years ago. Not anymore, seeing as the field is covered in knee-high grass. My eyes scouted the area for shelter. Bingo. A black Mercedes was parked in the middle of the field. What the hell was it doing there? Who cares, it was shelter.

My legs screamed in agony as I sprinted, as fast as I could through long grass, anyway, my last length. That was, to the car. I had been running for hours, away from the people trying to kill me, although only God knows why. Besides me, of course. I have not told my secret to anyone.

I had reached the car. I tried to open the passenger door. Locked, damn. Driver side, yes. It was open. Sorry to the person who owned this car, but why did you leave it in the middle of a field, anyway? I think I need it more than you do.

Oh. My. God. Well, if you're going to leave your car unlocked in the middle of a field, you would think to at least take the key out of the ignition. Oh, well. It's their loss, my gain. It was the perfect getaway car. Well, any car would've been a fine escape car. I started the engine and took off across the field.

BANG!

Shit. That bullet just smashed the rear glass. Sorry, Mercedes owner. Looks like you'll have to pay for the damages yourself, because I don't have any money. That is, if it isn't so far damaged that it can't be repaired. Which it probably will be by the time I run out of fuel, which won't be for a while. The gauge says the tank is full, thank God.

BANG!

Oh, no. The glass being smashed makes it that much easier for them to be able to shoot me. Damn it. Yes, I had taken off in the right direction. Ahead there were cars driving on what appeared to be a highway.

I took a sharp left onto the highway which I had now reached. The tires squealed on the black tar. I was now racing along the highway, dodging cars. I was definitely speeding and endangering innocent lives, but if I slowed, they would catch up. I could now see the oncoming black SUV in the rear view mirror. My foot pushed down on the throttle. The engine was revving its gut's out in protest. I seriously need to learn how to drive. No, wait. I learnt the basics of driving in my first and only driver's ed. lesson. The lesson I had before I learnt about the secret. The secret that forces me to live in hiding. Anyway, I released the throttle and slammed down on the clutch. I changed gears and my foot was back on the throttle hard. The engine no longer revved furiously. Why couldn't this car have been an automatic?

I was racing along the highway. I could drive for hours, but I knew I would have to stop for fuel at some stage. But, the SUV would have to stop sooner. Those fuel guzzlers were the cause of global warming, I recon. In fact, I think they are the reason I am running, or driving. They cause global warming, which causes the secret. Oh. My. God.

Epiphany. I now know why they are hunting me. They don't want anyone to know. Know the secret. The secret that changed my life. Why I am running in hiding. Well, I'm not doing either of those things at the moment, seeing as I am driving and out in the open. But what I am usually doing. That's why I never see my family. Oh, no. Oh, Dear. I should have thought of this, but I didn't. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I hate myself.

There are red and blue lights flashing brightly in my rear view mirror. The cops and they are the last thing I need right now. Sighing, I eased my foot off the throttle and pulled over.


	3. Chapter 2

Me and my stupid, naïve self. It totally wasn't the police trying to pull me over, it was them. The FEDs. No, seriously. They just turned on their emergency lights. They have them, seeing as they are a government vehicle and all.

They finally caught me, after all my hard effort in running and hiding. It was all in vain. I knew it would probably happen eventually, I just didn't realise it would be so soon. It has only been three months.

They have me locked up in an infirmary. It is a sad and drab place. Everything is white and shiny and sterile. It reminds me of a hospital. The only difference is that there isn't any medical equipment. The only hint of colour in the place is the clothes that everyone wears. In saying that, everyone besides me is wearing shades- that is, blacks and greys- even if it is not their colour. I am the only one that has any colour on me. Even if it is tinged in brown and green from soil and grass stains respectively.

I wonder what they want from me. I mean, how do they even know I know the proper truth. I'm not even sure I do. They could at least send a person to question me. No, they just presume the worst. I am all alone. I may as well be in prison.

The furniture suggests otherwise, though. There was a single bed with black bed sheets and a white frame, a white leather sofa situated in front of a plasma TV, a black-wooded desk and office chair, and a black and white ensuite. The walls were black, the floor and ceiling white and a red rug was situated in the middle of the floor. It was the only colour in the room. Even the light shone in an unnatural white. There were no windows, unless you counted the one wall that was completely glass that showed a busy reception area. There was a door frame in the middle of the wall.

I had next to no privacy. All of my moves were monitored through the wall by men in black suits and shades. They reported my moves though earpieces. No doubt there was security cameras in the room too, watching me.

I may as well give up, seeing as everyone in this building is on guard in case I somehow manage to escape through those bodyguards. That is highly unlikely, and surely they must realise that. They are prepared for every possibility, though. No saying what would happen to me if I tried to escape. If I were to somehow get past those guards and the receptionist, who by the way there are several that work in shifts; I would probably be recaptured before I made it out the front gate. Or any of the other gates, for that matter.

I may as well just hang out while I am here. No doubt I will eventually be questioned. I think.

I turned on the TV and flicked through the channels. Nothing of interest. Many of them had the news on. I wasn't too fond of the news.


	4. Chapter 3

"Hello, Cleo?"

Damn it, they couldn't have sent someone to question me two hours ago? I was awake then. They obviously were waiting for me to fall asleep.

"Who wants to know?" I mumbled, still half asleep. Gees, they are big on accommodation, but not on clothing. I had to sleep in the clothes that I was caught in. Totally unattractive.

"Cleo? Hi, I'm Joshua Valdo. I am a counsellor. I am here to talk about why you are here. Do you know why you're here?"

"First of all, can you wait for me to wake up first?"

"Of course. I will be on the couch." The man replied.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up. I was pretty sure my hair would be a mess. I got out of bed, my head swirling slightly from the sudden movement. I walked into the bathroom and was disgusted at what I saw in the mirror.

My strawberry-blonde hair was all teased in a bed-hair style. There were slightly red marks on my right cheek from where my head had been resting on the pillow. My clothes were all crinkled where I had slept on them. My eyes were streaked with red where it was supposed to be white from my abrupt awakening.

Hurriedly, I splashed my face with cold water from the tap and yanked a brush, in which someone had cared to supply me, through my hair roughly. My hair was straight and co-operating today, at least.

Looks like someone was bothered to give me a change of clothes. I quickly changed into them. Now, looking semi-presentable, I walked out of the bathroom.

"Phew! I was worried you were just going to lock yourself in the bathroom and cry until I left," The man said from the couch. The TV was on, and it was obvious he had been watching it. He now turned it off as he stood up and walked over.

"Nah, just a little maintenance," I replied. He laughed softly. Now that I was awake- that was, aware of my surroundings- I was able to look at the person standing about a metre away from me. He was sort of cute, you know, for a counsellor. He had mousy brown hair and matching eyes, unlike me with my blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He was reasonably built; obviously he worked out a bit. He was taller than me at about six feet. Nothing out of the ordinary. He had a sort of presence that said 'I won't hurt you, unless you hurt, or try to hurt, me first'.

"Please, sit," he said, gesturing toward the couch. Reluctantly, I made my way over to the couch and sat down. The man, meanwhile, pulled over the chair from the desk and sat on it.

"So, do you know why you are here?" he asked.

"Second of all, what's your name again?"

"Joshua Valdo, but you can call me Josh."

"Is this conversation being recorded?" I asked.

"No."

"Yes I do know why I'm here."

"Why?" Josh asked, resting his head on his hands.

"Because I learnt of a secret that the government doesn't want everyone knowing, and they are afraid I will tell someone."

"And what else?"

"What else?"

"Do you know why you are _here_?"

"Because the government doesn't want me telling anyone the secret."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Tell the secret. If you had the chance."

"See that's the thing, I don't actually have anyone to tell."

"Oh? May I ask why?"

"That is personal information."

"I will be the only one that knows. What you say here is strictly confidential. I am not even writing this down, in case you haven't noticed."

"How will you remember what I say?" I asked.

Josh tapped his head with his finger. "Telegraphic memory."

"Oh."

"Do you want to say why you don't have anyone to tell the secret to?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"It's personal."

"What's the secret?" Josh questioned.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"What is the secret?" Josh asked again.

"Why should I tell you?" I snapped back.

"Because we're friends and friends tell each other their secrets."

"How are you my friend? I've only known you for five minutes."

"Isn't this the longest conversation you have had with anyone, ever?"

"Well…" Not really, I used to talk to the orphanage owner sometimes, but not very often. "There is one person that I have talked to."

"Really? Who? The orphanage owner doesn't count, since you probably wouldn't have been able to avoid conversation for the sixteen years you were there."

"Damn," I muttered under my breath. How had he known? Or course, the orphanage owner.

"I rest my case."

"I don't trust you to keep a secret."

"Oh, why?"

"You just seem the type that is a tattle tale, that's all."

"Do you see a tail on me?"

"No, but that's not what I meant."

"So, are you going to tell me or what?"

OK. Pros and cons of telling someone I don't really know a secret that I think he shouldn't know. Pro: It will take a load of my shoulders to confide in someone that could maybe help me. Con: It could spin out of control and bad thing might start happening. Pro: Hmm… I don't know. Con: I could die from telling someone that may or may not keep a secret. More cons. That's a bad sign. I don't want to tell Josh, but I want to tell someone and I have a feeling Josh is the only person that will be allowed into this prison of luxury, anyway. Damn it! I hate making decisions that I can't think of an answer to quickly. What? That makes little to no sense. I don't know. Oh, Josh is still waiting for an answer.

"Umm, or what?"

"You seriously won't tell me? What harm could telling me do?"

"No, I won't tell you. It is mainly for your safety."

"My safety? I think I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"Are you sure?" I asked coldly. That really wasn't really called for, but I couldn't take it back now. Better for him to be safe than sorry. He would thank me later, if he somehow managed to find out the secret. Not that that would happen on my watch.

"Yes," he answered cheerily. "I wish to know this 'secret' you keep mentioning."

"Well, if you did know, you would wish you didn't," I replied. "Not to mention they would lock you up like me… and then I would never get to see you again," I blurted out before I could stop myself. I quickly covered my mouth to make sure that I didn't leak any more information.

"Oh, you would miss me, would you?"

"No, of course not. I don't know you and I still don't even know why you're here."

"I can tell you are lying. You would miss me," Josh replied, a smile playing at his mouth. "In answer of your question, I am here because I am a counsellor."

"Now I know you are lying about that."

"Oh, alright, you got me. I am here because I wish to get to know you."

"I find that highly unlikely."

"But it is the truth. I am a counsellor; just not a counsellor to you. I work here in the reception area and I was watching you during my shift. I want to get to know you." There was honesty in his voice and it was written all over his face.

"I still doubt you want to get to know me- you were watching me?"

Josh got up to leave and made his way over to the door. "That's what I said," he called over his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to write. It's a bit boring at the moment. And It's not even that long.**

Well, this sucks. There is absolutely nothing to do here at all. It's so boring. I seriously need to get something to do, but what? I highly doubt anyone will give me anything. It has been ages since I have seen Josh, and that is the only sort of social life I have had here. Or ever, really. Josh is the only person in which I have ever had some (sort of) friendship with.

I secretly wonder if they are depriving me of him in case we are logging an escape plan. Like that's likely. I'd barely make it past the guards at the entrance, let alone the rest of the building. This room has no windows, and even if there was, I am pretty sure I'm on the 20th floor. It would be suicide to jump down from that height. And I don't want to die.

I HATE IT HERE! But not enough to kill myself, of course.

Hum, hum, hum. So bored, so bored. Hum, hum, hum, so bored.

I'M SO BORED!

GET ME OUT OF HERE!

Please

Yay, something remotely interesting is on TV. Apparently there is some sort of revolution going on. It appears that Vandile (never heard of the place- mind you, I'm not that fond of geography) is trying to take over Ireland and there is some riot. But the weird thing is that the Vandilians only seem to revolutionise at night. That and they all have black hair with a cobalt blue streak in it and have pale, bluish skin. Of course only I would be able to see this, besides fellow Vandilians. Yes, I am Vandilian on my dad's side. I look like my mum, though. That's why I don't have black hair, or even a blue streak. The only evidence that proves I am Vandilian is my blue eyes. That and my pale, but not blue, skin. This is going to get interesting.

"Hey." I looked up from the couch to see Josh walking over to me.

Thank you, whoever organises visitors, for letting Josh back in.

"What you watching?" Josh asked.

"The news. Some riot in Ireland," I replied.

"Ireland, isn't that the land of the Leprechauns? Why's there a riot there?"

"Have no idea," I lied, as I did have an idea. "Vandile is trying to take over the government."

"Vandile? Never heard of the place. Are you sure it's even a place?"

"Yes, it is a place. Population 1 million. I am half Vandilian, in case you're wondering how I know this."

"Oh. Okay. Why's Vandile trying to take over Ireland?" Josh asked.

"How should I know? I'm an orphan, remember."

**A/N: See? Please review. Thanx to High-Functioning Sociopath SH for their review. Peace. **


	6. Chapter 5

"Yeah, like that really helps," Josh argued.

"Well, it's true. I have had no knowledge of the country since my mum and I immigrated out of Vandile. I don't even know if the population has grown or not. That was what it was when I left. It says so on the foster sheet thingy that my mum signed when she abandoned me."

"Yet you seem to know your family history."

"No. It said that my dad was Vandilian on the 'abandoning sheet'."

"So I take it you read the 'abandoning sheet' thingy," Josh said, making quotation marks with his fingers.

"Yep."

Awkward silence.

"I don't even know who my dad is. My mum didn't know. She just knew that he was Vandilian, is all," I said, my eyes becoming moist.

"Oh, no. Don't cry," Josh pulled my head onto his shoulder. "I'm not good with emotion. Please, stop crying," Josh almost begged.

I sniffed. "Who. Said. I'm. Crying."

"Please stop."

"God, you really are terrible with emotion," I almost laughed.

"Told you," Josh smiled.

"Except when it comes to me?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Umm, the fact that my head is resting on your shoulder now."

"Oh, umm…" Josh lifted my head off his shoulder. "Yeah, ahh. Yeah."

"Now my hair looks a mess," I complained.

"Your hair's fine."

"What?"

"Your hair's fine," Josh smiled.

"Oh. You really think so?" I said, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"Yeah, of course."

Umm. O…kay. Was this flirting? Was Josh flirting with me?

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"How old are you?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"I'm 18," Josh replied. "How old are you?"

"That is classified information."

"Come on. I told you how old I am."

"Fine. I'm 18 in…" I needed to think for a bit. "I'm 18 on the 27th of March."

"Why, that's already gone."

"Seriously?"

"Deadly."

"Oh my God. I'm eighteen." I had never really thought about aging, but now seemed like a good time; seeing as I would never escape this big pile of crap they call life. Ha. Maybe it is joyous for some, but definitely not me.

"Yeah, I guess," Josh said, pulling his hand through his hair.

"What are you thinking about?"

Josh leaned closer and whispered in my ear, "trying to think of a way to bust you out of here."

"Why?"

"Do you really want to be stuck here for the rest of your life?"

"No. But it must be impossible to get out of here, wouldn't it?"

"Nearly, but there is a way."

Okay, I'm going to escape. Somehow.

And Josh is going to organise it, by the sounds of it.

Yay, I think.

What?


	7. Chapter 6

"So, how do you escape a high security prison?" I asked.

"First of all, it is not a prison, only this level is."

"Okay, not a prison; got it."

"Secondly, it is not without great difficulty to escape a high security 'prison' building, but not impossible. First, you have to somehow take down the guards at the door. This is easiest to do near the end of their shift, as they are kind of tired for standing up for 24 hours. Next-"

"Whoa, their shift lasts for 24 hours?"

"Yes, but that is beside the point. As I was saying: Next you need to get past the receptionist and any workers that may be wandering around."

"That would probably be easier than the guards."

"Yes, it is but… that is beside the point again. Ok, here is how you get past the receptionist and the other workers: midnight. Midnight is when the shift changes, as you are supposed to be asleep. Also, no one works at midnight, except the guards at your door, the only ones in the building, and the receptionist."

"Okay, so we have when to take down the guards, not the how, and nothing on how to take down the receptionist, how-"

"Yell 'I don't want to stay here for the rest of my life!'"

"What?"

"Just do it."

"I DON'T WANT TO STAY HERE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!" I yelled.

"But you have to. I can't just let you go," Josh replied in a soothing voice.

"What was that?" I whispered furiously.

"Acting. We need to convince the guards that I will not ever let you be released. This will weaken their guard a tiny bit at the time of the escape. Also, it will make me seem like lesser suspect."

"Why?"

"Because you are going to escape when I am working."

Hold on a minute. When Josh is working-? Oh, so he won't sound an alarm, or whatever. And he will probably help take down the guards.

"Okay," I replied in a whisper. "When is this escape going to happen?"

"At eleven forty at night. That will ensure the guards are tired enough to take down, and early enough that relief guards won't be coming out to swap then. Here," he handed me a watch, "I had the liberty of synchronising them, so we attack at the same time. Well, you'll attack first, and then I'll join in. Do you know how to throw a punch?"

"Yeah, of course. Do you want me to demonstrate?"

"Please don't; Security guards. We need to be as least suspecting as possible."

"Okay, see you at eleven forty."

"Do not forget," Josh said as he got up. He leaned down and whispered in my ear: "You only get one shot. Do not screw it up."

He walked out, leaving me to wander what to do next.

I guess I'd better catch up on my sleep. I need to be at the top of my game in order to escape.


	8. Chapter 7

Eleven thirty-six. Have I got everything that I might need?

I had found a backpack in the cupboard of the bathroom and had chucked all the things that they had supplied me. A toothbrush- actually a packet of 12-, 36 packets of toothpaste- why, just why?-, four hairbrushes (everything is white, I should tell you), three towels (they definitely did not want to come in with me here. The backpack was HUGE!), those vacuum bag things that 'deflate' everything, a vacuum (I wasn't going to haul that around), 60 changes of clothes- with underwear (heads up, I used the 'vacuum bags for everything that could 'deflate', like the clothes and towels), a packet of hair-ties (it was a 300 pack), the pillow, a few blankets (again with the vacuum bag things) and $5 million dollars in cash. Seriously; they gave me five million. This stuff seriously screamed: ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE!

Eleven thirty-eight.

Okay, I lied. There were two backpacks and I filled the second one, too. I planned on giving it to Josh when we escaped. There was also a mini sized, battery powered vacuum. There were 6 torches and plenty of spare batteries to boot. Not to mention a few more pairs of shoes (thank god) and socks. The stuff screamed not only escape, but: AFTER, SURVIVE IN LUXURY! Yay.

Eleven thirty-nine and 50 seconds.

10. I started putting my backpack on.

9

8

7!

6!

5!

4! I picked up the other, the heavier one, by both straps.

3!

2! I was at the door.

1! Show time.

I sprinted out of the door and ran to the first guard I saw. I managed to punch him in the face once before the initial surprise wore off his face. He tried to throw a punch, but I quickly dodged it. These guys were all brawn and no brain, thank God. I knew how to knock out someone without killing them, and promptly did that. "Next," I called, and another rushed at me. I swung the heavy bag at him and then incapacitated him. "Come on, seriously? Next." But no one came at me. Josh had taken down the other three guards. I walked over to him.

"Here, take this," I said, handing him the backpack.

"Whoa, what's in this thing? Bricks?"

"No, just some essentials. Just some clothes and money and stuff."

"Okay, how much money?"

"Five million."

"You counted?" Josh asked in astonishment.

"No, it was in an envelope marked '$5 000 000."

"Let's go," Josh said, although we were at the lift. "Relief will be here soon, and we do not want to explain this."

We took the stairs, as too many people caught the lift, and we didn't want to be seen. We would then go through the loading dock, as not too many people went there, especially at this time of night.

There was a car waiting in the loading dock when we got there.

"Wouldn't this be a bit obvious? Why would anyone leave at midnight?" I asked.

"To beat traffic in the morning," Josh replied. "Besides, when the traffic does start, it will be harder for them to catch up to us. We have approximately two hours before anyone notices; we need the best head start."

"Whoa, won't relief be coming in ten minutes?"

"No, a certain somebody dissolved sleeping pills into the relief's coffee."

"Cool." Josh started the car and quickly took off. This car was a quiet one, thank God.


	9. Chapter 8

Now might be the best time to tell you that I am in Ireland. I wasn't in prison, though. The prison was in Vandile. Yes, I was captured by my own people. Well, my people on my father's side, anyway. I don't think that they realised that I was one of their people (on my father's side), or else they probably wouldn't have imprisoned me.

Josh is Vandilian.

Vandile (it sounds so much like vandal) is a country adjacent to Ireland, which is where I am now. No one even knows that Vandile is actually a country; they just think it is a district in Ireland, or something. All the inhabitants of Vandile have either black hair with a blue streak or blonde hair with a red streak. It's just weird. And you never see the blue streaked people during the day or the red streaked people at night or even on overcast days. On overcast days, the country is a ghost town. No one walks the streets; no one comes out of their houses. Strange.

Today was an overcast day. We were now driving in the country-side of Ireland. Farmers with plain, ordinary hair were attending to their fields. As we drove, the soft hum of the engine sent me to sleep. I dreamed.

Well, it wasn't really a dream; it was actually a short term memory of when Josh and I stopped for lunch. We had stopped near the border of Vandile and Ireland, in Vandile. As it was an overcast day, no one was on the streets. Nothing stirred. Not a bird sang. The drawn curtains in houses didn't shift as much as a millimetre. It was dead quiet, aside for the soft breeze ruffling the leaves in the trees. I didn't want to speak and break the eerie silence, but I'd forced myself to.

"Why is it so quiet?" I had asked in a whisper. "Why isn't anyone outside?"

Josh looked up at the sky. "No one can go outside on overcast days, unless they want to die."

"Why would they die?" I asked, still confused.

"Because Lunarch can't come out during the day; any day, or they will melt. And Solarch can't come out on overcast days, or they will suffocate." Josh explained. It still didn't make sense to me, though.

"What do you mean? Who are Lunarch and Solarch? Why would they suffocate?"

Josh turned away from me. "The Vandilians. The sun is like oxygen for the Solarch, without direct sunlight, they suffocate. Lunarch are the opposite; the night is their oxygen. Their skin absorbs the daylight and melts them from within; their skin also absorbs the nightlight, that is, no light, and converts it into energy, kind of like a plant, but not really, seeing as a plant uses sunlight. Lunarch use moonlight and darkness. It is their own form of photosynthesis, if you will. It converts it into energy, but not nutrients. They get that from another source."

"What do you mean 'other source'?"

"Vandilians are vampires."

"What? Vandilians are vampires? My father's a vampire? Wait- you're Vandilian-" Josh turned to face me.

"And I'm a vampire." He rushed up to me. Oh, shit. I'm going to die.


End file.
